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Daydreaming of Yesterday
Daydreaming of Yesterday
Daydreaming of Yesterday
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Daydreaming of Yesterday

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Renato Ice, boss of a notorious drug cartel is assasinated. His daughter is forced to take his seat on the throne. Shiloah soon realizes that there's no line separating love, hate, good or evil. It doesn't take long before she is forced to find the animal from within. The life of a boss's daughter is nothing new to her but the life as a boss is. She soon finds herself breaking rules and promises as she tries to figure out her place in the world. Tormented by the loss of her father Shiloah makes an attempt to find peace within her world by doing the one thing she promised her father she wouldn't. She falls in love with the two men that her father begged her to stay away from. She's caught in a love triangle that could possibly destroy everything that her father built. But her troubles with her lovers have nothing on the problems that she has with the uncle who is trying to push her off of her throne. Decisions have to be made that could very well mean the end for Shiloah and the Ice cartel.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 15, 2015
ISBN9781311043108
Daydreaming of Yesterday
Author

Latonya D Young

Tonya D. Young is a United States Army veteran. She is a native of Louisville, Kentucky. Latonya has degrees in Management, Conflict Management and HR. She is also the President of Nenwon, a consulting/editing/fundraising organization.

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    Daydreaming of Yesterday - Latonya D Young

    Daydreaming of yesterday

    Latonya D. Young

    Daydreaming of yesterday

    Latonya D. young

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright

    Daydreaming of Yesterday

    by Latonya D. Young

    Copyright 2015 Latonya D. Young

    Smashwords Edition

    ISBN 9781310550164

    Smashwords Edition

    Cover design by Laura Gordon (BookCoverMachine@gmail.com)

    Author can be contacted via twitter - @GodlovesmeYOUNG

    Email - youngld@yahoo.com

    Dedication

    This book is dedicated to my loving children who have always been an inspiration in my life. I love you guys (Alexander, Aliyah, and Anson), as well as those who are struggling to deal with the trials and tribulations that life have brought your way. Just remember that God is able to heal all wounds.

    Writing has been a doorway to a peaceful existence for me. My world is complete. Between my lovely family and my art, God has truly blessed me. I could not begin to ask Him for more.

    People may have spoken negative things over you, but the good news is that people don’t determine your destiny. You are not who people say you are. You are who God says you are. Don’t be defined by the limits of others. Believe God’s Word and see His victory all the days of your life! Joel Osteen

    Acknowledgements

    Thank you to my Heavenly Father. Without God nothing is possible, but with God, All Things Are Possible. My children have always been my driving force, and that will never change. I do the things that I do, in hopes of helping them to reach their goals. I want to be their inspiration, their motivation, and their muse. I want them to see their mother striving to be the best, and I want them to see that everything is possible if they pray, and believe in themselves. My babies are my muse. My reasons for writing. My reason for the striving to become the best author, photographer and designer possible. Most of all, they are my inspiration to becoming a better person.

    Latonya D. Young

    TRANCE

    I’m looking at my court appointed attorney and thinking damn, my ass is screwed.

    Chance McMahan. He’s a young guy, who looks like he just graduated law school and doesn’t know the difference between a good defense and a guilty plea. He stands about six foot six. His light blue eyes hold more terror in them than my gray ones do. His face is lean, chiseled jaw line, sharp nose, thick eyebrows, and thin lips. His blonde hair is cut short and there is absolutely no hair on his bare face.

    I stare at him intently. He can’t be any older than I am, I think.

    I’m twenty four years old. My small frame is positioned upright in a hard wooden chair as if I’m paying attention to everything that is going on around me. In reality my mind is wandering. I’m all over the place. I’m thinking about the past, all of the bad choices that I made. I’m thinking about this young attorney who is so wet behind the ears that he’s more afraid than I am. And I’m thinking about him.

    My love.

    I glance over at the prosecutor who looks to be just as young as my attorney but she looks like she has her shit together.

    She’s presenting her case to the judge with confidence as she steals sideways glances at me and cuts her eyes when she speaks of me.

    She’s tall, maybe five foot eleven. Very thin, as if she eats and throws it right back up in an attempt to remain skinny. Her blonde hair is cut short in a bob. I can see her brown roots so I know that she wasn’t born a blonde. Her emerald green eyes dart from the judge over to me and my attorney. She behaves as if what I’ve done has affected her personally. Or should I say what she is accusing me of.

    She knows the background of my case and still she fights for those who were lost in the carnage that I helped to leave behind. No one ever fought for my family when we needed them, but now they’re fighting against us. Fighting to give me life in prison..

    I glance down at my feet at the two hundred dollar pumps that are on my tiny feet. Damn, I love a beautiful pair of pumps, I think to myself.

    I’m wearing a three hundred dollar pant suit, pale blue in color. The pants are just like I like them, just snug enough to show off my petite frame but loose enough to allow for breathing room. I’ve lost quite a bit of weight since the detectives threw those handcuffs on me and placed me in a cell. Ninety eight pounds are on my five foot five frame.

    My hair was cut short before the arrest. Thank God for small favors.

    There are no salons in jail. Short hair is much easier to keep groomed. I’ve actually worn the same hairstyle since I was fifteen years old. I’ve had a thing for Toni Braxton ever since I first heard her hit single Breathe again. That was the first song that I downloaded onto my IPod. An oldie but a goody. I got my hair cut just like hers a couple of weeks before my sixteenth birthday.

    The judge takes his eyes off of the prosecutor every now and then and looks over at me. I’m sure he’s looking at little old me and wondering how the hell I managed to do what I did. Correction, what he’s been told that I did. He’s wondering the same thing that everyone else, including my attorney is wondering. They’re wondering who helped me to carry out my crimes.

    None of them seem to understand that when you go through the things that I went through you don’t need any help. You get angry enough to do a lot worse than what I did.

    According to the prosecutor I deserve nothing less than death for my crimes.

    Perhaps she’s right. Maybe death is even too good for me.

    But I still have to fight. I can’t give up now.

    There are people depending on me to beat this. There are people standing in my corner willing to give up their lives to help me to beat this.

    Right now there’s a mob of people surrounding the court house. They’re waving around signs begging for my release. Demanding it.

    I actually have a support group.

    My dad was big in this town. He did his damage but in the end he helped to make the lives of a lot of people better. People don’t easily forget.

    There are of course those who wish to see me sitting on death row for my crimes. But they are the ones who believe in the system. They believe that the system works for everyone.

    If only they knew.

    Against my attorney’s advice, I’ve chosen to take my place on the stand and speak to the jury. And boy do I plan on giving them an ear full.

    If that skinny little blonde prosecutor thinks that I’m going down without a fight she has another thing coming. I’m an Ice. We never give up that easily.

    But I’m hoping that it won’t have to go that far. I have an ace up my sleeve that no one will see coming.

    My attorney nudges me gently to get my attention and whispers into my ear. We’re taking a break until morning.

    I nod letting him know that I understand. I’ve been a little bit off lately so he handles me with kid gloves as if I’ll shatter to pieces at any given moment.

    He stands and I take his lead and stand as well. The judge’s gavel hits the wood and then the sheriff is standing behind me.

    I know the drill so I place my hands behind my back. The tall female sheriff doesn’t even bother cuffing me. I have a relationship with the sheriffs now. They all treat me more like a daughter or sister than a criminal. And they are fully aware of who my family is. If I do get out of this one, they don’t want to have to watch over their backs for the rest of their lives.

    Marybeth leads me back to the small room where I will meet with Chance in private. She’s a big woman. She’s every bit as tall as Chance. Her piercing black eyes make her look sinister when in reality she’s one big teddy bear. Her salt and pepper hair is always in a ponytail. There are small wrinkle lines around her eyes that tell the secret of her age but there are no other marks or blemishes on her mocha colored face.

    We have been doing this same song and dance for months now. They just can’t seem to figure out what they want to do with me.

    Two judges have already dismissed themselves from the case. The recusal for the first judge, Judge Thomas Baker was due to him knowing my father and uncle personally. After one look at me he realized that there was no way that he would ever be able to judge my case.

    The other judge, Robin Taylor took himself off of the case because my family also knew him well. He had been bought off many times in the past. Several of my father’s men, who should have been spending their lives in prison, were free men, because of Judge Taylor.

    The new judge on the bench was Judge Merle Shane. He looked like someone’s grandfather. He looked like he could have been my grandfather. His skin was golden and made his warm brown eyes stand out. His black curly hair looked as soft as cotton.

    I could already tell that if it came down to it, he’d never allow a jury to sentence me to death.

    At least that’s what I convinced myself of.

    Sitting in the dimly lit room alone, I waited for Chance patiently. I never once glanced up at the clock on the wall. I had all of the time in the world.

    When he finally walked in he was accompanied by my shrink. Chance thought that it would be a good idea to have someone on the outside to come in to evaluate me and to later testify on my behalf.

    The state had already sent their psychiatrist in and she had quickly ruled in favor of me standing trial.

    Brooklyn Tate walked in looking smug and arrogant. And gorgeous as hell!

    His bronze skin was flawless. His full lips captured my attention every time I spoke with him. His tall muscular frame demanded my attention when he walked into the room. His goatee was clean and smooth. It was obvious that he spent time and money in getting it trimmed. And his almond shaped brown eyes were like looking straight into heaven.

    How’s it going, Shiloah, Brooklyn asked?

    I smiled at him sweetly. Well, as soon as we are finished here I’m going to change into a beige jumpsuit and spend the rest of the night sitting up watching the bitch’s in my cell to make sure that none of them makes a move on me.

    We’re working on getting you a cell of your own. We just have to convince the judge to grant the order.

    Truth be told, the girls in my cell didn’t bother me at all. The Ice family name goes a long way.

    Don’t worry about it, Brooklyn. I’m honestly doing okay.

    A deep frown formed on his handsome face. No. I’d rather you have your own cell. Our defense isn’t going to be any good if you’re getting into trouble during your trial. We have to play this safe.

    His concern for me went beyond the psychiatrist, patient relationship. Somewhere along the way he had developed some genuine feelings for me.

    I was like that. The more time that people spent in my presence the deeper they got sucked in. I was easy to like. People just seemed to always want to care a little too much for me. Maybe it was my size that had people thinking that I needed protecting.

    Either way, he had definitely become attached to me within the past few months.

    For over four months he had been desperately trying to help Chance to build our defense by getting me to talk about the past. He wanted to know about my relationship with my mom, uncle, father and my cousin. Most importantly, he wanted to know about my positon within the cartel.

    Up until now I had refused to talk.

    That’s right. For months my lips have been sealed but now I’m ready to speak.

    I’m ready to let Brooklyn and Chance in on who I was, who I am now, where I came from, and why I did what I did.

    BUBBLE

    Chauncey is walking me from my cell to meet with Brooklyn. Chauncey is a pretty cool guy. His five foot ten stocky frame leads me down to the bottom floor, away from all of the chaos. He too neglects to place handcuffs on my tiny hands.

    The other prisoners are at the doors yelling and screaming out as we walk by. The guys are drooling over themselves as we pass by their doors. Some of them will never breathe in the scent of a woman again once they are transferred from jail to prison.

    Chauncey calls out to someone on his two- way. We approach the huge metal bars and they slide open. I’ve done this enough times now to know my way around the jail in the dark with my eyes closed tight.

    Finally I get to relieve myself of the information that I’ve been holding in. I get to take the stress off of my shoulders and share that with someone. It’s time to feed Brooklyn small bits and pieces of my story.

    I’m taking my time so that he will have time to soak it all up and deliver it back to Chance word for word and with feeling.

    The doors open and there he is in all of his glory. Looking like a man that I would have fallen for under different circumstances. Well, I had already fallen for him. But under different circumstances perhaps I would have had the opportunity to love him, to be with him.

    I shove those ridiculous thoughts from my mind and make my way over to the table and sat in the chair facing Brooklyn.

    He smiles at me and when Chauncey closes the door, leaving us alone, Brooklyn places a hand on top of mine. His hands are warm and masculine. I shiver and a tingle finds its way up my spine.

    "Where do you want to get started, Shiloah," he asks in a soft tone?

    "How about at the beginning," I respond with a smirk on my lips?

    He smiles. His teeth are white and very straight. I love a man with nice teeth. As you can tell, it’s pretty easy for me to get off track.

    "At the beginning then," he says as he turns on the recorder and peers deep into my soul.

    I sat in the front row listening to the minister speak about a man that he didn't personally know.  He had no clue that my father meant the world to so many people.  He wasn't aware that my father had been the center of my world. 

    My everything. 

    I was grateful for the time that I had with him, but it hadn't been long enough.  There was still so much to be learned about the man that I knew well.  I glanced around the packed church at the solemn faces, and wondered if they were grieving because they loved him like I do, or were they grieving because their meal ticket would soon be getting lowered into a grave.  Shame on me for doubting their love for him, but he taught me well.  Every smiling face is not a friendly one. 

         Four days had passed since he was gunned down, and I was still waiting for him to walk into the house at the end of the day.  I literally didn't know what to do with myself without him.  For the first time in my life, I felt abandoned.  He placed himself in harm’s way, and had gotten himself murdered.  I hated the hand that he had been dealt.  He died too soon.  I was sorry for the hand that we were dealt because we still needed him,

         I was sorry for all that had not been said before he died.  Looking in the direction of the closed casket, I was sure that he knew that nothing in this world could top my love for him.  I could hear his voice in my head telling me that he was sorry for one thing or another.  Sorry for not making it home for diviner, or sorry for missing a birthday party.  He missed a lot of events, but I forgave his absence.  We couldn't eat, attend private school, or have any of the things that we had, if he weren't pouring his blood and sweat into his work. 

         I wondered how long I would grieve.  I was sure that the pain that burdened my heart would never leave me.  I'd awake every day for the rest of my life and spend my first moments of the day missing him.  What else could I do when the best thing in my world was gone? 

         A hand touched my arm.  My mother.  Her dark almond shaped eyes were red and puffy.  Her full shaped lips trembled.  Her black dress and black veil spoke volumes for how she was dealing with his death.  Like me, she'd cried every night since his death.   Perhaps I was being selfish and only thinking of my own pain, but my life had been destroyed when the phone call letting us know that he was dead, came in.  I had nothing left to give to anyone.   All of my love and faith had been placed in the man that lay in the coffin in front of us.  I loved him with all of my heart. 

    My heart was now trapped in that closed coffin, with him. 

         I gave her a weak smile and leaned into her.  She needed someone to cling to.  A small part of me wished that I could offer her the shoulder that she needed, but I couldn't even carry my own grief.  His memory would live on within me forever.   He would never be gone.  My children will recite stories of my father to their children.  I wished that I could rewind time, bring him back, and see his lips turned up into a smile, one last time. 

         Fate has spoken.  We were left here alone to fend for ourselves and to become the strong women that he would have wanted us to be.  I moved in closer to her.  We had to put on a show.  Show a united front, even if we were not united.  If we weren't strong, the sharks would begin to circle around us, waiting for us to break.   

         Everyone there knew that I was next in line to take over.  My father was a king in our world, and I had been his princess.  With my father’s death, I became the Queen.  His entire fortune was left to his daughter.   I was no saint, but I wasn't a good girl either.  I wasn't even much of a lady.  But I was everything that my father had wished for me to be.  He trusted no one in life but me, and the woman who sat at my side. 

         They were all probably placing bets to see how long it would take me to screw up everything that daddy built.  I was going to surprise them all.  There was no way that I'd crash and burn.  Failure was not an option.  I had to make my father proud.  He was dead, but I knew that he was looking over me, and rooting me on. 

         I turned once again to look through the crowd and caught the eye of Blue, who was seated next to Cayan.  They sat two rows behind us with several of my father’s other men.   My father had taken them both under his wing.  Both had shown promise, and he had taken to them quickly.  He actually rescued them from the streets when they were young boys. He loved them both. But Cayan was something special to my dad.  He reminded my father of himself.  Daddy had always wanted a son, but my mother had problems conceiving me—problems that kept her from giving him more children.  Blue winked at me, and I nodded, letting him know that despite my appearance, I was strong and ready to lead.  

         Cayan and Blue had been kids from my father’s old neighborhood—kids that had been lost in the system, and given to the streets.  In many ways, my father had saved their lives.  They two of them were cousins.  Their moms had been sisters.  Cayan's mother got hooked on heroine first.  The drug and the streets had called for her, and she couldn't seem to resist their pull.  She kissed Cayan goodbye, and sent him off to school, and he hasn't seen her since.  He behaves like it doesn't bother him, but I know it does.  Cayan's mom’s drug use had been obvious to anyone who had watched the full figured beauty turn into someone unrecognizable. 

    But Blue's mm had been different.  She had been a full functioning addict, until the end.  If it had not been for her overdosing, it may have taken a while for anyone to notice that she was going downhill fast.  She overdosed about three months after Cayan's mom disappeared. 

         If that wasn't bad enough.  They were left with a grandmother who cared more about receiving a monthly support check for the boys, than she cared about them.  It was her neglect that brought them to the attention of my father.  They had been two little lost boys in desperate need of love and guidance. 

         They had been fourteen and fifteen when my dad walked into the house with them.  My mother never muttered a word.  She just did what all women who love their men do.  She became mother to two more children, without complaining about it.  My love for my father made me welcome them into our home with open arms.  I was thirteen years old, and already being groomed to take over my daddy's business, so I understood immediately, when my father looked at me and said that the boys came from his old neighborhood and needed help. 

         They should have been seated up front with us.  My father had loved them both.  I continued to look into Blue's, dark blue eyes and smiled from the comfort that I felt, just knowing he was there.  His dark skin made those blue eyes stand out.  His well-defined features, and coal black wavy hair, made him exotic looking.   His six foot two, muscular frame added to that look, and made the girls go crazy. On top of the good looks he was sensitive, dependable, had a huge heart and thrived off of helping others.

         Cayan was a different story.  He was so damn wild and unpredictable. I glance to him, and my heart did what it had done from day one.  It melted.  I watched the huge tears fall from his green eyes, and the need to comfort him was overwhelming.  He was taking my father’s death extremely hard.   We were all going through hell, trying to deal with daddy's death.  We all carried the pain of losing a good man in our hearts.  Cayan had been extremely close to my daddy.  Seems that daddy and I both had taken a special liking to Cayan when he came into our lives.  I had a thing for him and would have loved him for the rest of our lives, if I hadn't promised my daddy that I wouldn't cross the line with him.

         I made that promise, knowing that one day I would break it. 

         My focus went back to the funeral that was taking place.  My father’s only brother stood at the podium, telling a lighthearted story about his brother as a child.  Uncle Slater was the spitting image of my father. Slater may have resembled my dad in looks, but when it came to his heart and his loyalty to the family, they were nothing alike. Slater was ruthless. My uncle was truly the devil. I showed no mercy to anyone. I’d heard stories of the men he had killed when he was just a kid. Some of those murders had been to put the cartel on the map, while others had been just for fun.

    He was nothing to play with. The man was nothing nice.

    Another look back at Cayan and I thought back to one of my last conversations with my father.

         He looked up from his work and looked deeply into my eyes.  I want you to end up with someone as strong as Cayan.  But definitely not Cayan.

         I'm confused.

         You're too smart to end up with a man like your father.

         One day I am going to run the organization that you built.  I'll need a man like Cayan by my side.  Just like me, he was groomed by the best in the business.

         Yes, Shiloah.  He knows the business inside out.  But I did that so that when I'm gone, he'll be prepared to take his place as your right hand man, not your husband. 

         He's good enough to do my bidding, but not good enough for the keys to my heart?

         I'm not saying that.  Shiloah, you are my only child, my only daughter, and I want nothing but the best for you.  I love those two boys like they're mine.  But, I don't want you to end up with either one of them.  What's wrong with the boys that you go to school with?

         The men that I go to school with would never fit into our world.  They'd never understand the world that I was born into.  And I love him, daddy.

         When I die you are going to inherit everything that I have.  You have to be careful of whom you choose to share it all with.

         You love Cayan, daddy.  And he loves you.  Which is why he won't touch me without your blessing.  I don't ask for much, but I am asking for your blessing, because I want him.

         Your mom and I met in middle school.  I used to pull on her pig tails and run.  And then I'd go back later and apologize.  I've loved her for a long time.  What I love most about her is that she understands her position, and she plays it well.  She's not only a housewife and mother, but she's also my confidant.  She has secrets inside of that pretty head of hers that my enemies will never have.  You, my dear sweet daughter, don't understand how to play your position.  You are going to be the boss of a couple hundred men, and leader of a major organization when I die.  Cayan is great as a right hand.  But if you make him your husband, his thirst for power will destroy you both.  Now let's not make this any harder than it has to be.  Wipe away any notion that you may have of being with him.  Do it for me, Shiloah.

         You want me to promise to give up the man that I love?  Am I supposed to be alone for the rest of my life?

         Of course not.  You're just not going to be with Cayan.  Just promise me that you'll take my advice and leave him alone.

         I don't think that I could stop loving him if I tried.

         Do you love him enough to defy your father?

         My father was asking me to give up the only boy that I'd ever imagined myself being with.  I brought out the best in Cayan.  He wasn't withdrawn and hardened when we were together.  He was comfortable enough with me to open up and relax.  Comfortable enough to let down his guard to show me who he really was.  I wouldn't change one thing about him, because he was perfect for me.  I had fallen in love the first time he smiled at me.  He was that cute kid from the wrong side of the tracks, but that bad boy image isn't what made me fall for him.  It was the pain and innocence behind that smile that had caught me off guard, and made my breath catch in my throat.  I was thinking that it had to be love.  I'd never experienced anything like that, ever.  All I ever wanted to do was lay back in his arms, in a tall grassy field, and watch the sun set. 

         If I made that promise to daddy, I was going to go crazy without Cayan.  Maybe I'd eventually marry and have kids, but I'd never love my husband the way that I loved Cayan.  I was up for anything where Cayan was concerned.  Giving him up wouldn't be easy.  I could already imagine the two of us tangled up inside of bed sheets, with our sweaty bodies sticking together. 

         No one alive is as important to me, as you are daddy.  I can't stop how I feel, but I'll let go of any idea of being with him if it'll make you happy.

         Yes, it will make me happy. And baby girl, in the long run you’ll see that I was right about this. You are going to meet someone that is going to sweep you off of your feet and treat you better than your father does.

    I wore a smile on my face even though I wanted to cry. No one will ever treat me as good as you do. I don’t think I’ll ever find a man who will love me as much as you do.

    "You’re way too special not to have someone who is going to think that you are his whole life."

    "Not every girl is as lucky as mommy. You are a dying breed daddy. There aren’t very many men like you left in the world. And although I think that Cayan is a good man, and good for me, I’ll let him go, and I’ll either fall in love again with someone else, or I’ll grow into an old maid."

    "You, an old maid! Never going to happen! Maybe you should take a break and you and Tabitha can go off to Jamaica or someplace. Anywhere far away from Miami. Have some fun and be young."

    "Are you saying that I’m already an old maid?"

    "I’m saying that you spend way too much time stuck in this office with me. You’re not living, and you aren’t giving yourself the opportunity to meet anyone other than Cayan. As long as you keep yourself trapped in this bubble, you’ll never meet anyone else. Get out and explore the world. Meet the man of your dreams. Trust your father, Shiloah. Cayan is not the man for you. Not now. Not ever."

    Walking away from him would be difficult, but I'd made a promise that had been hard to keep while my father was alive, and now, that promise was haunting me.  I wanted to hold on to what I knew Cayan and I could have, but my love for my father was holding me back.  His mocha colored skin was damp from the tears that he was shedding.  His green eyes were as red as mine.   He and Blue stood and made their way towards my father’s casket.  It was time.  I watched the two of them as they moved.  They were so similar, yet so different.  Cayan's tall muscular six foot five frame leaned slightly, but Blue was there to catch him.  Carrying my father’s casket out to the awaiting hearse was too much for Cayan. 

    I stood and followed directly behind the men carrying my father’s body. I hated to leave my mother on her own, but I needed to be as close to him as possible. At that moment, only the casket separated us. Within the next hour, there would be tons of dirt poured on top of his casket.

    Despite what was said, I forced myself into the hearse that carried my father’s body. The great Renato Ice was dead. I would ride with him until the very end.

    CRINGE

    Family and those who worked for my father filed into the house after the funeral.  Daddy didn't really have friends.  He always said that having too many friends was a bad idea in his business.  He said that one loyal friend was enough.  We gathered in the sitting room and listened to Slater tell more stories about my father. 

    Blue sat at the piano, and began to play something slow, and Cayan leaned against the piano, and began strumming notes on his guitar.  They made beautiful music together.  Soon, there was no more chatter in the room.  All eyes and ears were focused on Cayan and Blue.

         My thoughts went back to the first time I heard Cayan play that guitar for an audience, I was sure that he was just as smitten with me as I was with him.

    Like all of the other girls in the club, my eyes watched his lips, wishing that I could be those soft notes that flowed from them.  What I wouldn't do to kiss him.  He was everything bad for me, and yet I wanted him.  He was the love song that flowed through me.  Something about him made me delirious.  Maybe it was the fact that my father forbade it.  Or maybe it was his mysterious bad boy nature.  I couldn't define it if I tried.  He was a great big bottle of heartache but I wanted him anyway. 

    Cayan watched me while he played.  Every note that left his lips was for me.  He sang a song that he had written.  He had that look in his eyes that said it all.  He wanted me.  I was the girl that he was singing about.  I was the girl that he was forbidden to love.  We came alive when we were together, but we were forbidden to make a move.  We both loved and respected my father, so all we could do was live out our love through his music.  My father saved his life.  It wouldn’t be right for him to go against my father’s wishes and act on his feelings. 

    His story intrigued me.  His story of survival after his mother left showed his strength and resilience.  That night I would have given anything to make time stand still.  To hear those notes being played on his guitar, and the lyrics flowing through his lips was all that I needed to be happy.  After he played that song that my heart said was written for me, he stood and swaggered over to where I stood.  That's just how powerful his music was.  No one sat in their seats while he played.  His lyrics drew everyone to their feet.  His lyrics made me want to forget that my father was against anything that ended with me and Cayan being a couple.  My heart had beat to the notes that he played.  That song, and the man singing it, belonged to me. 

    We sat at a table in the middle of the room.  He had the attention of every woman in the room, but he was focused on me. 

         You were great.

         Thanks.  That song was easy to perform.

         What makes that song any different than the others that you've performed?

         That one was easy to write and perform, because I wrote it for you.

         The song was for me?

         No more talking, let's dance.

         There was no time to protest before he pulled me to my feet, and drug me to the middle of the dance floor.  He took my hands and I slid as close to him as I could get.  Everything about it was wrong, but damn it, it felt right.  One dance couldn't hurt anything, I kept repeating to myself.  His hands slid to my hips as we rocked back and forth on the dance floor.  His lips touched my ear and out poured the lyrics to my song.  My eyes were closed but I could sense that the eyes of every woman there were on us.  He was sweeping me off of my feet, one note at a time.  There was a crazy feeling rumbling inside of my body that made me step in even closer to him.

    As quickly as I had gotten lost in the magic, the music stopped. He pulled away from me, and stared down into my eyes like only a man in love could. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door.  Weaving through the crowd, I was on top of the world. Living each minute in fear. Thinking that it would end at any given second.

    The warm Florida night had brought everyone out.  The outside of the club was just as crowded as the inside had been.  The crowd didn’t bother me as long as he was by my side.

    He ran his fingers through my hair, pulled me into his chest, and kissed me like I was the only woman on earth.  That kiss was bitter sweet.  It set my soul on fire. It was the first for us, but would it be the last? I was scared to death of what was in my heart, but I had him, and that made everything right.

    We don't have to end here, Cayan.  My dad will understand.

         For a long time I wished that I could recreate that night and relive it over and over. 

    Cayan stole my heart when he stepped over the threshold of our front door and walked into my family's lives.  There was a dark cloud hanging over his head when he came to us.  My father’s love and guidance had helped, but it never seemed to be enough for Cayan.  His love crippled me.  My brain refused to function when it came to him. 

    ALLEGIANCE

    I found myself leaning against the wall next to my bedroom window.  The police, the FBI, they were all useless.  They were probably sitting back in their offices laughing their asses off in relief that someone else had solved the problem of Renato Ice, for them.  They weren't concerned with finding his killer, or killers.  For all any of us knew, the authorities could have put a hit out on my dad.  It wasn't unheard of.  There were a lot of things going on behind closed doors when it came to the police and the FBI. 

         My dad had been the focus of an FBI investigation.  They'd been trying to get to him for years.  There had been a couple of agents who had put their careers on the line trying to frame my dad.  Fortunately, they never succeeded.  We had the best lawyers on our payroll.  They could see right through the garbage and the bogus charges.  Those trumped up charges were all fiction, drawn up by those crooked agents.  Hell, the murderer could have been one of those agents.  They were both taken off of the job.  This could have been a revenge killing for one or both of them. 

         All I could do at this point was to leave it all in my investigator's hands.  I had my father’s schedule for the last twenty four hours of his life and I'd gone over it a thousand times looking for clues.  Nothing stood out to me.  I knew all of my dad's secrets.  So did Rainer and Slater.  But our attorneys also had loads of confidential information in their heads about the cartel.  Anyone of them could have used what they knew as leverage against my father.  But Slater was his brother and Rainer was his closest friend.  The attorneys would have been too afraid to go against us.  We had a pact amongst us.  That pact meant that we'd protect each other against any and everything.  It couldn't have been one of my dad's own men.  Although it was a possibility I was trying to convince myself otherwise. 

         No matter how many theories I came up with I couldn't find the answers.  I wasn't just a pretty face, I had three degrees and was on the verge of passing the bar exam when the call about my father’s murder came through.  But it didn't matter how smart I was if I couldn't come up with the answers that I so desperately needed.  If I could only rewind the hands of time.  I just needed a motive and the answers would surely follow. 

         But what would I do with those answers?  Kill those responsible for his death?  That wouldn't bring him back.  But, it sure as hell would make me feel better.  My life just got complicated.  Those carefree days of shopping and studying for finals was over.  Now I had the difficult task of taming the beasts within my camp.  They were all out for blood.  Everyone wanted answers that I simply didn't have.  I was at square one without an idea of how to proceed.  There were risks that I would have to take in pursuit of those responsible for dad's murder.  Risks that I was more than willing to take. 

         Who would gain from my father’s death?  Some would say me.  I not only gained control over the cartel, but billions of dollars as well.  But only those who didn't know us would think that.  Anyone else would know that power and money meant nothing to me without my father.  We really didn't need the authorities to aid us in finding those responsible for my father’s death.  We weren't vigilantes, but we never ran to the cops or FED's for help in these types of matters.  We had our contacts within those departments but they were used for other things.  It was up to me to bring my father’s killers to their knees. 

         I just hoped that I had what it took to get the job done.  My emotions were running on high.  My dad always told me not to make emotional decisions.  That meant that I needed to back away from the situation and think strategy.  I couldn't allow my heart to lead me. 

         I was so distracted.  My mind was all over the place.  I couldn't think straight.  It was like all of these thoughts in my head were hijacking my mind.  I couldn't slow it down if I wanted to.  I was in the process of losing it altogether.  It was difficult adjusting to life without him.  It would be even more difficult going on living without him. 

    I straightened myself and headed from my bedroom to the meeting. It couldn’t start without me.

    When I entered the room it was dimly lit.  I had to adjust my eyes so that they'd grow accustomed to the light.  The men spoke in whispered tones.  I looked around the table at each man, making sure to make eye contact with each of them.  I had been in that room before, with those men.  But I had never stood at the head of the table.  That had always been my father’s spot.  He wore the crown so he sat at the head of the table.  With his death the crown had now been passed down to me.  As my gaze passed from man to man the whispers slowly began to fade away.  When my eyes met with my uncles he continued whispering to the man to his left, whose lips were pursed together.  My dear uncle Slater seemed to believe that the world owed him something.

         Slater was less than happy with my leadership.  Everything in him believed that he had been called to lead the organization from the beginning.  Even during my father’s time at the head of the table, Slater thought that it was he who could do the better job.  He'd have to be watched closely, otherwise he could think that I'm weak enough to be overpowered.  Nothing good would ever come from someone like Slater in leadership.  Despite what Slater or anyone else believed my path in life had led me to becoming the head of the Cartel.  My father was the notorious Renato Ice.  He had been the head of the largest cartel in the Miami area.  Now it all belonged to me, and rightfully so.  If I had been a man, maybe no one would have thought twice about me taking over.  But me being a woman was raising red flags with everyone.  The one thing that I realized about power is that along with those who will follow you and remain loyal, there are those who are behind the scenes plotting, and waiting for your downfall. 

         My father had warned me that one day I would take over, and when I did I would have to work twice as hard to prove myself.  And boy was he right.  Just several days after his death I was already being confronted with issues and fires to put out.  Issues and fires that no one had faith in me to handle.  Everyone was thinking that I would fail.  What they didn't seem to realize was that I am an Ice, and my father was a legend.  I'd never let him down.  I could see so much more than the men around me were giving me credit for.  None of them seemed to realize that my dad had been grooming me to take over since I was born.  All that the cartel had become was for me.  He built that empire for me.  It had been mine from the moment that it was started. 

         What's mine will be protected at all costs.  It was important that the men around me knew that I meant business, and business would go on as usual.  My father had no problems walking, but he kept a cane anyway.  The cane sat next to the chair that he used to occupy.  I ran my fingers over it lightly.  It was a beautiful brown cane, with a brass handle that was in the shape of an eagle. My hands wrapped around the brass handle.  I did as my father always did at the start of a meeting.  I tapped the cane boldly on the marble floor.  Now that even got Slater's attention. 

         Once I had everyone's attention, I took my seat at the head of the table.  Blue sat to my right and Cayan sat to my left.  All eyes and ears were on me, but I sat perfectly still and quiet for several seconds.  I not only wanted to take a breath and also take in the feeling of sitting at the head of the round table.  I wondered how my father had managed to remain so humble over the years. Power like that could easily go to one’s head if they weren't grounded.  I pulled my .22 from my side holster and lay it on top of the wood table.  I wasn't an expert shot like my father and the men who were sitting with me around the table, but I was damn near close.  My father had been taking me to the range several times per week, insisting that I learn to use a weapon.  In the wake of his execution I now knew why he was so very careful and insistent that his only daughter be able to protect herself.  I took another deep breath.  I wanted to make certain that I didn't stumble over my words when I spoke to my men. 

         All of you have been with my father since the cartel was started.  Since I was a baby.  I only ask that you continue to stay.  Continue on here.  Work for me and know that I may not be the leader that my father was, but he taught me everything that he knew.  I learned from the best.  He taught me because at the head of the organization is where he wanted me.  You were a part of his family.  He loved and trusted you all.  What I'm asking is that you be a part of my family.  Show me love and give me your trust, and I'll give you the same.

         I turned to the direction where the light clapping was coming from.  Beautiful.  Just beautiful.  But sweetheart you know nothing about running an organization of this caliber.  I don't know why my brother would leave someone so wet behind the ears in charge, Slater finished by waving towards me. 

         Do you think he should have left someone like you in charge?  He's been mentoring me since I was a child because he knew that you, his brother, was incompetent.

         Watch your step, Shiloah.  You're going to need me, Slater threatened.

         I'm going to need you around here even less than my father did, I countered.

         His gray eyes had nothing but rage and envy in them. I guess you're expecting us to just sit back and watch you run everything into the ground?

         I slammed my hand down on the table. Do you really want to do this now?  Your son has taken off to God knows where, and with God knows how much of the organizations money, so you should really be quiet now, before I start thinking that you put him up to it.

         Slater slowly began to sit back in his chair but the rage was still shining brightly in his eyes. We all know that my son is a greedy whoremonger.  No one had to convince him to do anything.  He made that move on his own.

         Well, if I find out any different I'll cut your fingers off.  You raised that greedy whoremonger, so maybe you should answer for his crimes, I threatened.

         You seem to forget that it was me who helped your father to rise to the top while you were still hanging on to your mother’s tit, so please, my sweet little niece, watch your fucking step!

    Rainer stood and threw his hands dramatically in the air. "Come on you two! This is not what Renato would have wanted. His brother and his only child going at each other’s throat’s in front of everyone. True enough we are very close knit, but the two of you are blood, so damn it, for the sake of the organization, act like it!

    When he took his seat, I stood in front of the huge mahogany round table, while the men sat. I was finished arguing with my uncle for the time being. We could pick back up where we left off later, if he didn’t see things my way. I won't rest until my father’s killer, or killers, are brought to justice.  I want them hunted down, and delivered to me.

         We have to allow the police time to sort this out before we head to the streets, accusing and knocking off our rivals, offered Rainer, my dad's right hand.

         I'd offer my soul to the devil if it meant that I'd have my father back.  I say we put the majority of our resources toward bringing down those responsible for his death.

         Maybe you should step down for a few months.  Take some time to grieve.  Everything here can be handled without you.

         I don't like you.  I never have.  But my father trusted you.  He said that you were loyal.  He made me promise not to kill you, if you were still alive when I took over.  I always hated it when my father forced me into making promises that I didn't want to keep.

         Cayan walked over to me and placed a hand on the small of my back.  Not wanting to look vulnerable, I moved over, forcing his hand away.  He was there, willing to carry the weight of the responsibilities that were sitting on my shoulders, but I was the one my father chose to carry on in his name.  I was my father’s heir, and no one would take from me, what he built.  Blue stood and took his position next to me. 

    Rainer had been my father’s right hand man from the beginning, and had always been the biggest and meanest son of a bitch that I'd ever met.  Six foot ten, and packed with muscle, Rainer was an enforcer.  He kept everyone in line.  Rainer was not a man who should be taken lightly, but he was also the last person anyone would want to appear weak, around.  He chewed the weak up and spit them out without showing mercy.  He had been incredibly loyal to my father.  His loyalty to me was still debatable.  He would have to prove himself before I considered him to be someone that I could keep in my corner.  I would be suspicious of his motives until he proved me wrong and convinced me that I could trust him. 

         Rainer, dad loved you, so I'll let you get away with questioning Shiloah's authority, just this once, Blue threatened.

         The three of us stood, united.  It was time that my father’s men, realized that they were now my men.  Rainer had been my father’s right hand man, but now he was just another worker.  My right hand men stood at my sides, ready to defend me no matter the cost. 

    IN THE DARK

    The weeks that followed my father’s death had been a monotonous blur.  It was September 4th.  Fourteen days before my birthday.  Exactly one month after my dad's murder.  I'd never celebrate another birthday again.  Someone had seen to that.  They'd taken my father and the happiness that comes with turning a year older.  We had been so close.  When he was alive we'd often cut each other off when we were talking.  We'd be thinking the same thoughts.  Almost like we were in each other's heads.  I felt myself on the verge of tears, wishing that I could rewrite history and bring him back.  There was an incredible connection that was shared between me and my father.  I was most definitely the female version of him. 

         He was my hero.  The only man that I'd ever looked up to.  He'd been very instrumental in everything in my life.  There had been times when I was a kid when he was the only father sitting in ballet, and gymnastic practice.  His skills as a father were so beyond a lot of other men.  He was the best. 

         I always got the feeling that he didn't want this life for me.  But I was his only child.  There was no son to pass it down to.  I was all he had.  His only choice.   I smiled at the thought of how impressive my dad was and how much he taught me.    Our relationship would seem strange to some.  The leader of the cartel teaching his daughter the business.  That would make some people think that he wasn't a good father.  What father teaches his only daughter to step into his shoes when he's the leader of a major cartel?  That's the million dollar question that a lot of people would ask.  People who had no idea what our lives were like-what the business was like.   You don't just start an organization like the one my father started, and just leave it to anyone. 

         My dad put his blood sweat and tears into the cartel.  It had been important to him, so it was twice as important to me.  He died just one and a half blocks from the restaurant that he opened for me.  He loved his work.  Not as much as he loved me, but it was up there.  Now his dreams for the future were in my hands.  He had always trusted my instincts more than I did.  I didn't believe in myself but he believed in me.  His belief in me would push me into becoming the leader he believed I could be.  Everything that I was, had everything to do with my father and how he raised me. 

         I would never become an attorney now.  I suffered a significant loss when he died.  School was over for me now.  My father was dead.  It was time for me to join the real world and finish what he started.  He knew that I was the future of the cartel if anything ever happened to him.  Perhaps that had been his reason for wanting to clean everything up-go completely legit.  My father was the history of the Ice cartel, and I was its future.  This was his plan all along.  I was always meant to succeed him.  He did his best to prepare me.  I just prayed that it was enough.

    There were so many decisions that had to be made.  Some that I was ready to take on, and some that I wasn't ready to take control of.  Rafael being one of them.  Rainer was pushing me to make a move where Rafael was concerned.  A move that I wasn't prepared to make.  I couldn't give the order to have my cousin murdered.  No matter how strong it would make me look to our enemies I couldn't turn my back on my family.  Rafael had been a wild card from the beginning.  I never agreed with dad bringing him aboard and putting him to work.  Rafael was always too flashy for my taste.  Uncle Slater had bought him a cherry red jaguar for his sixteenth birthday, simply because he had whined like a two year old for it.  He was a spoiled kid who knew no limits.  And now he'd stolen from my father, thinking that his family ties would save his life.  You can't steal from the biggest Cartel known to man and live, no matter who you are.  But how do I make an example out of family?  I know what my dad would have done but I damn it, I just didn't know if I had it in me to put a hit out on Rafael.  I closed my eyes and asked God to help me to find the answers that I needed.  Answers that didn't lead to killing my own family. 

         Propping my elbows onto my dresser, I scanned over my reflection.  I didn't believe in makeup, but I had glossed my lips up to perfection.  I searched for features that weren't from my father’s side of the family and could find none.  Nothing about me resembled my mother and her family.  Everything about me was Ice.  On the surface I had it all together.  But on the inside I was still dying.  I blew out a frustrated breath and prepared myself to look in

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